


Petrichor

by Jurice



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, Spies, Tsukki goes by Kei instead of Tsukishima for a reason, Wounds, probably a great deal of emotional constipation, secret agents, semi-implied bokuaka
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-08 01:40:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11071374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jurice/pseuds/Jurice
Summary: Some nights, there are missions where Kei turns off his earpiece and returns in the morning with ugly bruises spanning the length of his body. Kuroo's usually not the one patching him up in the aftermath, but when he does, he wonders.ORSpy AU in which the four kids from the third gym are agents working together for the same organization, and sometimes Kuroo thinks Tsukki doesn't seem suited for the job even though he's so well cut out for it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had this sitting around on my laptop for nearly half a year now and figured I might as well post it. Well, here goes.

i.  

"Akaashi's busy so he can't do it. I need your help, but only if you don't ask questions," Kei says. A pause. "Kuroo, I'm talking to—"

"Yeah? You need something?" Kuroo looks up from where he's fiddling with a mess of wires. Although their most recent operation had been a smooth run, some of the gear had gone to shit during the chase, and he's trying to salvage among the remains because funding from headquarters isn't all that generous.

Kei stands in front of him, holding a roll of bandages and a bottle of antiseptic. There's some hand towels, courtesy of the hotel they are currently staying at, slung over his shoulder, and a bowl of water rested in the crook of his arm. He doesn't reply, as if to say _I'm not repeating that again_ , and simply looks expectantly at Kuroo. It's neither a plea nor an order.

Kuroo gives up detangling the wires, setting them to the side atop the ornately adorned coffee table. Home base is fancy this time around. Five star. Expensive. Bokuto's pick. All the more reason for Kuroo to save what's left of their broken equipment, but he humors Kei, if only to be polite. They're not even friends, just acquaintances with the same occupation, assigned to the same projects and expected to place complete trust in one another, when no sane person in this line of work would do so. 

Just acquaintances; but Kuroo will trust Kei's judgement that whatever this is would be important enough to require his help, even if he might not trust Kei yet when it comes to other matters.

Kuroo takes the items from Kei, patting the seat next to him on the sofa and motioning for the other to sit there. "What do you need me to do?"

"Clean the cuts. Just worry about the ones on my back. The blood should be dried, but try to be gentle about it." His glasses have slid down the bridge of his nose, and he peers down at Kuroo over the rim of his glasses as if trying to be patient and somewhat failing. "The cuts are fresh and might bleed again if you're too rough with the towels."

"Okay, sure thing. Turn around?"

Kei quietly shuffles onto the sofa, sitting cross-legged at first before deciding to sit hugging his knees. He doesn't talk. Neither does Kuroo. They don't exchange words much outside of business, and that continues even now. It's not all that different.

As Kei unbuttons his shirt and carefully folds it, placing it on the table alongside the wires, Kuroo wets one of the towels so that it's damp but not dripping. He surveys the cuts. They're long, and although not very deep, still enough to be a worry for infection. He presses the towel lightly against the far end of one wound, trying to get rid of the caked blood, and Kei hisses, leaning forward away from the touch before stopping himself. "Sorry," Kei tells him, leaning back again with a certain controlled hesitancy.

"No, that was my fault." Kuroo dabs at the wound again. "I really wish there was better lighting here. It'd probably be easier and not hurt as much."

Kei hums in response, although it doesn't sound like agreement. They sink into silence, Kuroo continuing to clean up the wounds. Free of dried blood, they're more of a bright red against Kei's naturally pale skin.

It's peculiar, Kuroo thinks, that Kei is wounded at all. Their last mission, as he recalls, had been surprisingly easy and required very little actual gruntwork, save for the final chase, with Bokuto madly driving away from their pursuers. But then, perhaps it had been different on Kei and Akaashi's side. As the extraction team, they were in charge of securing the targeted files before passing them on to Kuroo and Bokuto. Perhaps they'd been met with some difficulties, a guard or a watchman, who'd had knives on hand? It certainly hadn't seemed so during the mission; neither of them had mentioned through their earpiece about coming across any guards. Kuroo opens his mouth to ask, and stops short as he remembers. _No questions_. Does it count if he asks Akaashi later? It seems harmless enough. 

He switches out a used cloth for the third time, this time dampening it with antiseptic instead of water, and inspects his work. There's dark purple blossoming along Kei's sides, reaching to his lower back. Kuroo guesses they were hidden earlier by the poor lighting and dried blood. He brushes one of the bruises with his fingers, touch featherlight, applying no pressure. "What do you want to do about these?" 

"Nothing," Kei replies, shying away. "Don't touch them."

"Alright," Kuroo concedes, but he thinks the bruises almost look as worse as the cuts. 

Towel meets skin again, and Kei flinches away briefly from what must be the burn of the antiseptic. He says nothing, and there is silence, save for the soft rustling of Kuroo's movements. The lack of conversation somewhat bothers Kuroo, although Kei appears unaffected by it. Still. 

"I heard from Akaashi we have a week until our next assignment," Kuroo says, because he is not like Kei.

"Apparently," Kei answers.

"It's nice to have a break."

"Yeah."

 _One-word answers?_ Kuroo grimaces at the lack of cooperation on Kei's part. "So what's Akaashi doing that you can't ask him to do this?" 

"Transferring the data. Headquarter's deadline is in half an hour," Kei says briskly. _Ah. Deadlines._

"And Bokuto?" Kuroo asks, although he can't imagine Kei approaching their fourth member for any help.

"He'd ask questions." Kei turns around to give him a look like he's wondering whether Kuroo is stupid, which changes into a look of resignation as if he actually accepts that sentiment. There's far more personality in those three words than anything else he's said this evening. 

"Alright," says Kuroo, and he shuts up. 

 ------ 

ii.

He doesn't ask questions that time, or the next, or the next one after that. He notices more, though, and realizes that there are things which slipped past him before.

Kuroo's never seen Kei involved in fighting. He's never seen Kei pocket a gun, either. So it's bizarre, how he often returns with wounds that are much worse than they should be.

Sometimes, after missions, Akaashi and Kei hole up in a room alone for an hour, dead silent to the outside. And sometimes, Kei finds Kuroo instead, the usual roll of bandages and bottle of antiseptic in hand, the usual black and blue discoloration running down his sides and red cuts adorning his back. Kuroo gets used to the sound of Kei hissing as the antiseptic does its work and wonders whether Kei will ever ask for help treating his bruises. He wonders whether Kei allows Akaashi that honor instead.

And he doesn't ask questions.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took forever to come up with a title for this, but I'd like to mention that along the way a friend of mine came up with the ingenious idea of calling this au "kur007," in reference to how it was very loosely inspired by a James Bond film. 
> 
> I definitely have more plans for this au (hopefully stuff will be posted soon after some tweaks). As always, feedback is wonderful and much appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Okay_ , Kuroo thinks, and merely nods in response as he tries to tell himself that he wasn't hoping for a different answer. 
> 
> They talk about other things afterwards, but Bokuto's answer replays itself in Kuroo's mind. He wishes his reasoning was as effortless and naive as that.

iii.

_It is half a year ago._

_The mark is a handsome young man, currently occupied on the dance floor, the heir of an illegal arms business with many underground connections. Someone slides into the seat beside Kuroo, and he breaks away from staring at the man._

_"You've been watching him for a while," his new companion remarks loftily. "Like what you see?"_

_Kuroo hesitates with his response. He's so used to being the one approaching people, planning out exactly what he should say to charm them and knowing how to act ahead of time, but this is one of the few occasions where the tables have turned and he's being put on the spot. His train of thought blunders forward a hundred miles an hour, and he tries to catch it before something he'll regret slips off his tongue. "And if I don't?"_

_"Well, then, there's certainly many women here who will be quite happy. I've seen how they look at you, but maybe you haven't noticed because you're so busy eyeing that bigshot over there." He graces Kuroo with a thin smile, lips curving ever so slightly at the corners. For some reason, it reminds Kuroo of a grimace. "I'm Kei."_

_"Kuroo," he supplies back, still stupidly in a daze. He's rarely the man of the show and more often the one running point behind the scenes, doing legwork and occasionally beating people up. Unlike Akaashi, he's not that great at talking his way around people and recovering information._

_"Kuroo," Kei starts. "Next time, you could be less obvious. If you're staring that hard, you're either planning to fuck him or kill him, and you just admitted it wasn't the former. That's poor conversational skills, for an agent."_

_Kuroo tenses up but forces a laugh, in case Kei is merely joking. Have they been outed already? If that's the case he'll have to notify Akaashi as soon as possible, and they'll need to switch to plan B, fast. It's not too late for_ —

_"Well?" Kei prompts. He leans forward, head propped up almost daintily on one elbow, but clearly out of Kuroo's personal space._

_"What a peculiar thing to say to a stranger," Kuroo replies steadily, glancing away subtly to check the time on his watch. Akaashi won't be on communications until another five minutes, since they hadn't planned for anything to happen so early._ Shit.

_"But it's true," Kei replies, the lazy drawl of his tone indicating something along the lines of disinterest._

_"Who're you?" Kuroo finally asks._ Fuck it _, he thinks._

_Kei frowns. He leans forward, sitting on the barstool with his long legs crossed, wrists delicate. Kuroo sees that his eyes are honey-gold. "I'm working with you today. Ukai put me on the team, and Akaashi just sent me in."_

_Kuroo raises his eyebrows._ Headquarters?

_Kei stands up. "Really, I thought they were more organized in the northern district. You'd think everyone would be briefed beforehand on something so important." He takes Kuroo's drink and downs what is left of it in one go. "To sum it up, Akaashi's decided to test Ukai's judgement about whether I belong on this team, so I'll be handling the mark today. You can just sit back and relax. I suggest the strawberry cocktail while you're waiting."_

_"You're new," protests Kuroo. "Akaashi wouldn't do that."_

_"But he did," Kei remarks. "And I can get what we need, without bloodshed. Just watch." He leaves then to talk to the mark, white suit pristine against the subdued colors of the room._

_\------_  

iv.

Kuroo doesn't like reporting back to headquarters. Neither does Bokuto. They've agreed that paperwork hardly feels productive, instead making them feel edgy because they'd rather have work that's hands-on, with tangible results. So whenever the two of them can, they evade the responsibility of meeting with their superiors, much to Akaashi's annoyance. After shirking their duty four times in a row, Akaashi calls them out on their bullshit. 

The mission they completed this time isn't even that big and worthy of reporting, but Kuroo guesses they can't avoid the paperwork forever.

"We're going back this time," Akaashi announces out of the blue, when they're all sitting together on the floor, tallying up what supplies they have left.

Kei doesn't even look up from his checklist. "Okay," he says, without missing a beat.

And that's that, the decision made without factoring in a third or fourth opinion.

\------ 

v. 

At headquarters, when they check in, Kuroo sees Kageyama at the door of Ukai's office. Out of social obligation — which Kageyama makes obvious — they exchange brief greetings and make some small talk. Kuroo's met Kageyama once before but doesn't know much about the other man apart from hearing urban legend here and there. They say he and his partner have never failed a single job. Yet. The two are still fairly new in the field, and Bokuto makes this a point when he jumps into their conversation. Apparently Bokuto's hit a sore spot without meaning to, because Kuroo sees Kageyama's face harden. It doesn't ease up, even later. 

Kuroo also finds out that Kageyama's worked with Kei and doesn't think too highly of him at all. 

"I heard Kei transferred over to your team," Kageyama says haughtily. "Good luck with that."

"What?" Bokuto doesn't seem offended at the sarcastic well-wishing but instead genuinely surprised. He looks to Kuroo, who only frowns.

"He's not exactly a team player," Kageyama sniffs. 

"That, coming from you?" Kuroo asks, because he's heard the stories about just how difficult Kageyama can be, and he's also perhaps somewhat offended for Kei, even though there is truth to Kageyama's words. He tries for a teasing tone to hide the jab, but his challenge still earns him a glare.

Bokuto is looking at Kuroo again, as if waiting for him to continue. He evidently gives up on the waiting. "Sure, Kei can be hard to understand sometimes, but he's never brought the team down because of the way he is. He probably just gets along better with different people."

Bokuto continues, even though Kuroo can see that Kageyama isn't really listening. "I mean, the Vienna mission was all on him, too, so he's definitely capable. Maybe it wasn't that great on your side, but I think we're making pretty good progress here." 

Kageyama opens his mouth to refute Bokuto's statement, but the door to Ukai's office opens and he gets called in. Bokuto and Kuroo stay behind, waiting for their own turns.

Later, when the two of them are surrounded by paperwork, Kuroo brings up that conversation again. "Why?" he asks, plainly curious. "I didn't know you thought so highly of Kei."

"Well, Akaashi trusts him," Bokuto explains, direct and entirely unguarded. "And I trust Akaashi."

 _Okay_ , Kuroo thinks, and merely nods in response as he tries to tell himself that he wasn't hoping for a different answer. 

They talk about other things afterwards, but Bokuto's answer replays itself in Kuroo's mind. He wishes his reasoning was as effortless and naive as that.

 _\------_  

vi.

Another reason Kuroo hates paperwork is that it often makes him confront important information quite belatedly. 

"Kei's your _first_ name?" Kuroo asks several days later, somewhat mortified. 

"Yes?" Kei responds. 

"I can't believe it, all this time I thought I was calling you by your last name like we do with everybody else," Kuroo says, and runs his free hand through his hair in frustration. He puts one of the files he'd filched from the archives in front of Kei, pointing to the line that says _contractor's first name._ "It's been on here the whole time?"

"You mean on my file? That's always been there."

"I can't believe it," Kuroo splutters. He takes the file and brings it over to Akaashi, who doesn't even glance at it.

Bokuto finds it all immensely funny and laughs at his expense. "Bro, we all got his file after he completed the Vienna deal and joined our team. Even _I_ read it." He reaches over the sofa, over Akaashi, and grabs the thick stack of papers, which are neatly clipped together at the top. Thumbing through it too fast to read anything, he grins. "First name means firefly _,_ not that that's important, but bet you didn't know that either? _"_

Kuroo just groans at that. 

"It could totally be a code name," Bokuto says, grin widening.

"Please stop," Kei sighs, although what once would have been said with malice is oddly absent of it. Akaashi finally looks up from what he's doing to give them all a look, and Bokuto drops the subject.

Kuroo, however, is still not over it yet. "Nobody in this business uses first names, " he complains. "I feel like I'm breaching some sacred etiquette here."

"It's fine. It's not on the file for reasons," Kei explains. 

Kuroo eyes him, for a moment not believing that, but Kei suddenly looks tense. Unhappy.

"Personal reasons," Kei elaborates. Or, in other words, _no questions_.

At that, Kuroo sighs and lets it go. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for it being slow or choppy. Posting this as I eat whole wheat bread with tomato sauce, a semi-healthy parody of pizza, which is one of America's many sins. That aside, I hope you all have a nice day!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The cake. It's for you," he says simply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh so I realized I forgot to add the "slow burn" tag and just did that now. Whoops.

vii.

Kageyama's made a premature judgement about Kei — at least, that's what Kuroo thinks. It's not exactly a sudden revelation or anything else of that sort, since everything reveals itself in bits and pieces, but some of it still comes as a surprise. Surprisingly enough.

It's usually during a period of downtime such as this one, right when they're still basking in the success of a previous mission and awaiting their next assignment, that Kei seems to loosen up a bit. Kuroo sees Kei smile a handful of times and maybe even laugh once or twice, which is a striking contrast to his default state of apathy. For instance.

"That is _not_ a necessity," Kei mutters, rolling his eyes. 

"Is too," Kuroo retorts lightly, and throws another pack of gum into the gaudy red shopping basket. 

Kei halfheartedly tries to slap his hand away and admittedly fails because he isn’t really trying to reach for it. Kuroo instead gets one of those signature looks that says he's every bit done with this nonsense, sort of but not really. Sometimes Kuroo wonders whether Kei gets that from Akaashi or if it's the other way around, although occasionally he suspects that those two are in cahoots, just like he and Bokuto are when it comes to certain things. 

He relents, maybe a little too easily; he honestly feels like it's becoming more often these days. 

"Okay, fine," Kuroo laughs. "Bokuto makes it a point to try every flavor of gum and he hasn't tried this one." He glances at the packaging, just to prove to Kei that he's double-checked it and is a hundred percent sure. "Yet," he adds, with a certain calculated degree of smug confidence that he knows has about a fifty percent probability of getting a reaction out of Kei. Some reaction is better than nothing. Also, talking is nice, and since Akaashi and Bokuto are both off running another errand, there's only one other person here to talk to.

Kei raises an eyebrow. He sounds vaguely amused, and his voice is dry as he repeats, "That's still not a necessity."

"Why not though? It's paid for with funding," Kuroo tries hopefully. "And they're not watching our budget as closely this time."

"The extra budget is for the nice clothes we'll need. For the dinner party. In Madrid."

"Not out of pocket expenses," Kuroo reminds him again as cheerfully as he can. He thinks maybe Kei is turning away so he can hide a smile. 

"I believe Akaashi would still disagree," Kei says as he reaches for an item on the top shelf with considerable ease. He gives the basket to Kuroo though after he places the pack of batteries in it, which is a concession of sorts. Kuroo hums his approval.

"Akaashi isn't here," Kuroo tells him then. He's about to tell Kei to “live a little" as well, but from the upturned corners of Kei’s mouth, Kuroo thinks he probably understands it’s implied anyway. 

**\------**

 viii.

“So did you spend the budget they gave us on this, too?” Kei doesn’t sound too happy this time. Whatever generous tolerance had been bestowed upon Kuroo just five minutes ago appears to be gone now, which is rather unfortunate.  

“For the record, it was on sale,” Kuroo replies. Kei still doesn’t look very happy, so apparently the attempt at reassuring him has failed.  

Kei sighs, more tired than annoyed. “We just came out to get two things. The basket ended up having over a dozen things in it. And then I literally looked away from you for one moment, to pay, and you weren’t even in the store anymore. What on earth were you doing?”

“Yeah, well.” Kuroo pauses, feeling somewhat sheepish. “I was getting this.” 

He feels kind of ridiculous, to be honest, hiding the now-not-so-secret purchase behind his back. If he weren’t well over six feet himself and on equal footing with Kei, he’d probably be scared of how intimidating this whole situation might appear to be, what with Kei’s pointed frown and his look that demands a good explanation.

Kuroo fumbles with the plastic bag he’s holding, trying to be careful so that the contents don’t go all lopsided and spill. He paid too much — or at least, headquarters did — for it to go to waste. Kei blinks at him, for a moment, when he sees the box inside, as if he’s never seen a cake before. 

“That’s a whole cake,” he finally says to Kuroo.

“Coffee cake.” Kuroo nods proudly.

“Whole cakes are expensive.”

“Today’s a special day though, isn’t it? I dropped by the bakery next door while you were paying for the stuff,” he explains. 

“What?” Kei asks, sounding perplexed.

“This was actually supposed to be a surprise, but who’d have known that even with the extra items you’d be so fast at the convenience store check-out?" Kuroo goes on. “I put them there to stall you, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Come again?” Kei demands. In a weird turn of events, he sounds more annoyed than tired now.  

The lettering of the bakery's logo, which is printed on both the box and bag, flashes gold as Kuroo awkwardly takes the cake back. 

"I didn't actually have a craving for those chips, and Bokuto's tried that flavor of gum too, so."

He looks at Kei. It takes what seems like forever for him to get a response, which is frankly a kind of disappointing one, since Kuroo thought he'd been pretty good at clarifying the situation. He also thought it was all pretty self-explanatory, but then again? He's been wrong about some things, like about how twenty items would be enough to stall Kei at the check-out.

"Kuroo, I don't understand a word you're saying," Kei eventually sighs. "Honestly."

It's a kind of stalemate now. Kuroo doesn't remember how everything got here.

"The cake. It's for you," he says simply. 

"For me?" 

It strikes Kuroo then. "You don't like coffee flavor?"  

"I don't hate it," Kei starts. "But that's beside the point. Why get a cake?"

"Wait, Kei, isn't it—" 

"It's not like it's my birthday." 

The silence that follows isn't enough for Kuroo to make any sense out of the statement. "Wait, then what did I get this for?" He reaches into the bag he's holding for the pack of birthday candles lodged into the side.

"No clue," Kei answers. 

"Today really isn't your birthday? The file though," Kuroo begins, and trails off. He mutters half out of embarrassment at himself and half out of bitterness, "Your file said today, March. Unless I got that wrong, too."

Kei looks at him for a moment, still confused. Then he laughs. “Oh, that,” he agrees, just a little bit apologetic. “The day that’s listed isn’t correct, like some of the more minor information on my file. My birthday’s actually in September.” 

After he catches Kuroo looking at him blankly, he elaborates, “When I first joined I was filling the position of another agent and the data on my file was collapsed on top of theirs. Human Resources messed up some things but they didn’t bother to fix it because it wasn’t important enough to warrant their time. You know Oikawa and his department."

“So it’s not in another half a year is what you’re saying,” Kuroo says.

“Right now it’s March, so no,” Kei confirms for him. “Terribly sorry about that.” He almost smiles at Kuroo, however, and has the sense to look sorry for him. Also thoughtful and maybe slightly amused. 

Kuroo blinks slowly. “I mean, at least I got it with funding, so no harm done, right?”

**\------**

 ix.

“Thank you, though,” Kei says later, when they’re walking back to the designated place where Akaashi and Bokuto will be waiting for them. “For the gesture. It was nice.” 

He says it so quietly that Kuroo almost doesn’t notice it above the loud city traffic noises, since he’s half-preoccupied with trying to find his way through these unfamiliar streets and also with how to get the cake inside a refrigerator soon. Because if not, it’ll have to end up in somebody’s stomach, and he’s not sure that the two of them can finish a cake of this size without Bokuto.

It also doesn’t help that Kei waited a good ten minutes before saying anything; for a second, Kuroo doesn’t remember the context of their last conversation all that well, and he has to backtrack in order to understand what Kei’s referring to. 

When he does, he acknowledges Kei’s words with a nod before turning back to check the map he has pulled up on his phone. And if he feels Kei’s eyes trained on him a bit too closely for comfort, as if he's gauging whether Kuroo's reaction meets his expectations, then Kuroo tries not to put too much thought into it.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a relatively recent thing — Kei actually making an effort to keep conversations going — and Kuroo isn't entirely used to it yet. Mainly, there's a notable increase of friendly bantering in the guise of snark. Kuroo thinks he can do this, though, because Kei is actually a pretty decent person once he decides you're worth talking to with more than just one-word sentences. Or, at least, he seems like a pretty decent person, and Kuroo prides himself on being a good judge of people. He's _told_ that he's a good judge of people.

x. 

"It's surprisingly good," Akaashi says, about the cake, which they're eating for dinner even though it's probably a bad idea. They actually hadn't planned on doing that, but Bokuto had very smartly suggested eating the cake before they went out for real food, like noodles, because why not? Cake is good, he had said. Cake is good and everybody was probably hungry.

At this point, Kuroo thinks they'll end up finishing the whole thing, since there's less than a fourth of it left anyway. It's kind of big for just the four of them, so they likely won't have room for dinner. He feels a little bit stuffed and halfway towards a sugar high, something that he wouldn't normally mind, but he's slightly worried because this means they're skipping dinner. Skipping dinner seems like something that would irk Akaashi.

Kuroo wonders why nobody's asking questions about where they got the cake or how much it was, but he doesn't plan on bringing it up anytime soon if there's no occasion for it. He glances over to the next room where Bokuto is at the small kitchenette, cutting out another slice. The slice is offered to Akaashi, who gently declines.

"It's okay, I've had enough," he tells Bokuto, waving the proffered piece away before moving towards the trash can to get rid of his fork and paper plate. 

"Same," Kei calls out from over in the living room. He's sitting on the arm of the sofa, in the farthest possible seat from Kuroo, who's taken up temporary residence at the other end. Kei's legs are crossed, and Kuroo wonders a little vaguely why he's always crossing his legs. It doesn't look very comfortable sometimes, and with the way Kei is perched on the very edge like he's just about to tip off, it doesn't look like it's easy to stay balanced and upright either. Kuroo's about to ask but gets cut off before he speaks.

"Kuroo, want any more?" Akaashi asks. "I'm going to put the rest in the fridge for whoever wants it tomorrow."

"No, I'm good," Kuroo answers, after taking one more look at his plate. "I'm actually really full right now."

He hears Bokuto laugh from the other room and say something about him being weak, but he doesn't pay attention to it as much, just giving a dismissal wave of his hand in acknowledgement.

Kei snorts at him. "You shouldn't have eaten that much then, idiot," he says without much bite.

Kuroo sighs, feigning heartache. "Sometimes you have to make sacrifices for good things. No pain no gain, yeah?"

"More like no shame," Kei deadpans, but the subtle quirk of his lips gives him away.

Kuroo pauses for a second, taking a moment to process everything. It's a relatively recent thing — Kei actually making an effort to keep conversations going — and Kuroo isn't entirely used to it yet. Mainly, there's a notable increase of friendly bantering in the guise of snark. Kuroo thinks he can do this, though, because Kei is actually a pretty decent person once he decides you're worth talking to with more than just one-word sentences. Or, at least, he seems like a pretty decent person, and Kuroo prides himself on being a good judge of people. He's _told_ that he's a good judge of people. 

"You ate a lot, too," Kuroo says, throwing the accusation rather lightly. He looks up from his plate again, glancing at Kei, and finds that it's also a relatively recent thing, how he's starting to see Kei's reactions as somewhat predictable. 

Kei's face might be a bit red, perhaps from the beginnings of a slight blush, but Kuroo can't quite tell when Kei's done an entirely not subtle one-eighty, completely turning away from Kuroo to face the kitchenette, where Akaashi is wiping up the countertop. 

"Shut up," Kei mutters, which Kuroo now understands as the answer Kei defaults to when he either doesn't know what to say or really does want someone to shut up. Kuroo is betting this time that it's the former. 

Something like this might have effectively ended a potentially promising conversation several months ago; Kuroo knows better now, though. He lets it all hang in the air for a while, giving enough time for Kei's flush to die down, briefly distracting himself by inspecting the hotel room's nice damask wallpaper. Then he pushes on:

"I didn't peg you for the kind to have a sweet tooth," he remarks. 

That startles Kei, who seems to take it as an offhand comment, even though it really isn't one. "It's not a sweet tooth," he half-protests, the lines of his mouth getting close to but not quite yet forming a frown. His face scrunches up as if from confusion, like he's trying to explain something but remarkably failing. "People are built to like sugar, so it's a thing of biology, like other pleasures."

"So you like sugar," Kuroo concludes, and Kei gives him a dissatisfied look as though his statement lacked all the fanfare it was supposed to have, as if he'd actually been ready to discuss everything in depth. "Like any other sane person would, is what you're saying," Kuroo tacks on, to make it maybe sound more complete of an answer. 

"Well, if you put it that way," Kei starts. He frowns.

"Did you like the cake, though?" Kuroo asks, because really, that's the important question here. He remembers something important then, and adds, "You didn't seem to like coffee flavor when I asked earlier, though, so maybe not?"

Kei seems to waver, as if deciding between two answers, a lie and a truth. "It was okay," he finally confesses. "But I generally don't like bittersweet things. They're not worth it."

"Oh?" Kuroo prompts, preparing to leave it at that if Kei wants to. He has the feeling that Kei means more than he's saying, but it's not really in Kuroo's place to ask. To his surprise, Kei continues, after casting his gaze at the window and its heavy velvet drapes, which are cinched at the sides to let light in. It's late evening now, so Kuroo makes a mental note to close the curtains later, once he feels like getting up out of his too-comfortable seat. It's bad practice to allow windows to be revealing, after all, since everything can be seen from the outside when it's light indoors and dark out.

"I have a brother," Kei begins, and then pauses. A non sequitur. His eyes briefly dart towards Akaashi, who's still busy in the other room and apparently occupied with Bokuto.

Kuroo hides his confusion at what appears completely unrelated. He's learned that there are some questions he can ask, questions that aren't incriminating but can still unravel Kei's character. The problem here is he's not sure whether he's being encouraged to ask something or not. 

"Yeah?" he just says.

"He used to buy me strawberry shortcake all the time," Kei explains. "He hasn't done that in a while though, but it was nice. This reminded me of that. That's all."

"Sounds nice," Kuroo says, and he decides that maybe it's okay to actually press further and ask more this time, since Kei was the one who started mentioning family. It's a rather unusual topic of dicussion, especially for Kei, but he probably has a good reason for it.

However, at the sight of Bokuto coming into the living room, Kei gets up from the sofa, announcing loudly that he needs to get something from the shops downstairs, and would Akaashi go with him since he potentially might need help carrying things, and perhaps could they also get some aspirin too because the first aid kit ran out yesterday.

Kuroo looks over to see that Akaashi's been eyeing them oddly. It takes less than a second for the other to catch and return his gaze, before getting his coat from the rack at the door. He's shaking his head slightly. Akaashi leaves with Kei after that, the door of the hotel room closing heavily and clicking shut with the clipped sound unique to keycard locks. 

Now seated beside him on the sofa, Bokuto turns on the television, and they switch through a couple of channels before settling for the least worst option, a poorly directed romcom where the female lead keeps colliding with her love interest in broken elevators. Just as she's about to kiss the handsome young man, Bokuto interrupts.

"Wait, did Kei say they were going to get aspirin or something?"

"Yeah," Kuroo answers. "What, are we missing anything else? We can call them now and they can get it, too. They just left, so they wouldn't have gotten to the convenience store yet."

"No," Bokuto says, looking confused. "It's just that. I was pretty sure we ran out of aspirin a week ago."

 _Did they?_ Kuroo's not sure, since he hasn't had to use the first aid kit recently, not since the last time he helped wipe down Kei's cuts. It's been a while.

"Right." Bokuto nods, like he's confirming his own thoughts. "The bruise from that one guy who slugged me in the side last time kind of hurt, and Akaashi gave me the last pill from the pack. He said it was the last one and that he'd get more."

Trying to match up pieces of information in his head is too confusing for Kuroo. The more he thinks about it, the more he doesn't remember what'd been said when Kei and Akaashi headed out the door. At least, he doesn't remember with complete confidence. He watches as the girl on the screen pushes her love interest away, rushing out as the elevator doors open and provide her escape route from Prince Charming. 

Kuroo thinks that Bokuto looks about as confused as the man in the romcom is right now, but for the record, Kuroo is probably in the same position, too. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I was really going for a chapter a week when I started this, and this one took a bit long. Ack. I tried to insert too much symbolism in places, I think. I've also been sidetracked just a little by another kurotsuki project, which is more lighthearted and probably . . . tending towards the crack side of things, unfortunately. Haha. Anyhow, happy Tuesday, y'all!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo pauses. Thinks. Then opens his mouth to speak once more. "Is this about coffee being bitter again?" 
> 
> It looks like he's caught Kei off guard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the first half of a longer chapter, but then it would have been super long. And I didn't know how to cut things off smoothly like what the heck. So yay, have a long-ish chapter that is weirdly cut off at the end lol!

xi.

Kuroo wakes up in the morning feeling unpleasantly groggy and disoriented, like he's just getting up from an untimely-interrupted nap rather than a full seven hours of sleep. He knows that he's had a good seven hours, because he turns his face away from where it's buried into the pillow to look at the time on his phone. Although the pillow is very soft — having been filched from the bedroom — the sofa's cushions beneath him unfortunately do not provide the same degree of comfort. Kuroo can feel the stiffness in his joints and back as he tries to do some early morning stretches without quite getting up yet. 

As he's shifting around, his blanket falls over the edge of the sofa, exposing him to the unforgivingly chilly morning air.  He shivers involuntarily. So someone's opened the windows on this awful Tuesday morning, it seems. Kuroo finds it vaguely annoying, but not enough for him to act upon it.

"He's up," Kei observes from somewhere towards his right. To Kuroo, who's only half-awake, his voice seems far off and strangely softer than it should be. Kuroo attempts to see whatever's happening over in the kitchenette but gives up after discovering the crick in his neck. It's distracting as hell.

"Good morning, Kuroo," Akaashi greets him as he brings one hand up to massage the sore area. "Tea?"

Kuroo reaches down to pick up the blanket and toss it back onto the sofa. Before he opens his mouth to give a reply, Akaashi is already getting a mug for him, filling it with hot water and then popping in a teabag from the hotel's stash of provided accommodations. 

"Yeah, hold on. Thanks," Kuroo groans as he takes the mug from Akaashi and sets it on the coffee table. "Just give me a second. Still feeling a bit off."

"No rush," Akaashi tells him, and returns to whatever it is that he's doing. Kuroo just sees a bunch of papers spread out on the table in the other room, perhaps a map or two. From this far away it's too hard to get any much more than that. 

"How are you guys even up?" he asks incredulously, after rubbing his eyes to get rid of lingering sleepiness. "It's seven in the morning right now. When did you even sleep?"

"When did _you_ sleep?" Kei shoots back, and he's unexpectedly curt all of a sudden.

"Around midnight," Kuroo guesses, and frowns. "Bokuto and I nearly finished watching a second movie, and you two still weren't back yet."

Akaashi hums in acknowledgement and then proceeds to inform him, "There were things that needed to be done."

Kuroo blinks.

"I believe we texted you about it, but by then it was probably quite late," Akaashi goes on.

Kuroo grunts and then rolls over on the sofa, balancing precariously on the edge to reach for his phone again, which lies next to his mug of tea. He swipes down on the screen to check his notifications. Sure enough, there's a text from Akaashi with the time stamp of 1:12 a.m.

"Yup, didn't see that," he confirms, just as he decides that it's a good idea to finally get up for real. He tries stretching his back and, while bending over, hears something crack. Kuroo grimaces. 

"It's fine even if you didn't see," Kei answers, and he's coddling his own steaming mug of what Kuroo guesses can only be tea as well. The teabag's square paper tag dangles off the rim of the cup, it's string wound once around Kei's ring finger. "We had it covered," he says.

"So did you guys sleep? At all?" Kuroo asks this time.

He doesn't end up getting a verbal answer. Instead, he's presented with a kind of visual explanation when he glances over at the kitchenette again, in the fatigue that's obviously written on their faces.

Now fully awake, the first thing Kuroo thinks with a hundred percent clarity involves guilt; it's a rather unpleasant way to start his morning.

"Akaashi got maybe twenty minutes," Kei finally answers, sounding a bit wary as he stares into his cup, as though judging the quality of the drink. 

Kuroo mulls over the possibility that Kei's implying, by lack of spoken confirmation, that he's pulled an all-nighter.

"That's no good," Kuroo says. "Headquarters called you out at midnight? That's awful, even for them."

"No, they didn't do that," Akaashi answers. "But they did send us the details regarding our next assignment, and we thought it would be in our best interests to meet up as soon as possible with a potential"—he pauses—" _contact_ who might be able to help us out. We'll have a briefing session about it once Bokuto is up."

At that, Kuroo laughs. "Oh, he won't be for a while," he says, remembering just how insistent Bokuto had been last night. "He stayed up longer than me waiting for you. I'm not sure when he finally went to bed, actually."

Akaashi frowns just a bit, as if slightly miffed. "I tell him not to do that."

Next to him, Kei has his nose wrinkled in distaste, markedly unimpressed. "How stupid," he huffs under his breath. He's not making it a point to be quiet, so Kuroo is able to catch his words even with the distance between them. It's not meant to be taken as part of the actual conversation, though, so Kuroo just smiles. Akaashi says nothing in response either, still organizing papers into two stacks beside the maps.

"It's good for him to get caught up on sleep," Akaashi comments after a while, almost like a sidenote. "The next assignment is supposed to be long."

"When's the job? If there's time, you guys should catch up on sleep, too," Kuroo suggests. He doesn't want to be pushy, but still.

"Later," Akaashi half-promises, and doesn't yield even when Kuroo fixes him with a questioning look.

In the corner, Kei opens the small microfridge. He evidently has trouble looking for something, since he takes too long, and Kuroo thinks it might be the cake, which is shielded behind a stash of water bottles. 

"Wait, don't," Kuroo calls out to him. As much as he likes cake, too, Kuroo has enough self-control to acknowledge that what Kei's doing is probably a bad idea. Also, he kind of wants to make up for this feeling of guilt that's biting at him.

Kei stops, raising an eyebrow. 

"Uh, don't eat the cake," Kuroo clarifies. "Was that what you were looking for? I'm going to grab some breakfast for us from downstairs. Bagels and maybe coffee."

"But I made tea," Kei protests, clearly missing the point. He deliberately glances at his mug, like he wants Kuroo's eyes to follow his and see that, yes, he does have something to settle him for the morning already.

"Yeah, but real food will still do you good. Sugar isn't the best way to start your day," Kuroo points out.

Kei purses his lips in response.  

"Go with him," Akaashi suggests to Kei, who then balks a little at that, perhaps having expected something very different. 

It's surprising to Kuroo as well, since he senses Kei's discomfort, and. Really, it's better for him to get rest, too, since Kuroo thinks he shouldn't actually need help getting stuff.

"No, it's cool, I got it," Kuroo says. "I can just get a to-go bag to fit everything, and one of those cardboard trays if you guys do want drinks."

Akaashi just shakes his head. "Fresh air will do you good," he tells Kei, this time more firm about it.

"The windows are already open," Kei replies readily, and Kuroo thinks that this time it's not because he's missing the point. Kei gets up to head out, though, albeit unwillingly.

"It won't take long," Akaashi assures him, and glances towards the bedroom. "I'll wake Bokuto up. We can discuss the details of the assignment more once you two get back."

\------

xii.

As Akaashi said, the breakfast run is quick and easy, taking less than twenty minutes. It's awkward at first, especially when he's with Kei in the elevator, waiting for the rickety thing to go down so they can check out what breakfast options line the streets below.

Kuroo frankly won't be surprised if the thing breaks down, what with it being so shaky. One thought leads to another, and then he briefly wonders what would happen if the elevator really did break down, just like it did in yesterday's movie that he watched with Bokuto. 

It doesn't.

\------

xiii.

They end up getting only three cups of coffee with their food, because Kei insists that he's fine without.

Kuroo's never seen anyone turn down free coffee before, even if they hate it — maybe his friends are just that cheap or that deprived of caffeine or that shamelessly eager to see the money in his wallet go down the drain — so he doesn't let go of the matter lightly, because if this is about being _polite_ and not wanting to owe a favor as simple as a cup of coffee, then Kuroo doesn't need any of that. Friends shouldn't be keeping tabs over how many drinks are on them, especially if it's just an occasional thing. Well, unless the friend in question is Lev, but that's another story. 

"You sure you don't want one?" he prods again.

"No, really," Kei sighs, although at this point he sounds like he's almost going to give in, just because the same conversation loop has been repeating itself for the last several minutes, ever since they left the coffee shop. 

"Is this about the money? Because it wasn't that much." Kuroo pouts. "Kei, I'm not _so_ broke that I can't get people coffee sometimes."

"I know," Kei replies, unimpressed. "We literally make the same pay, Kuroo. I know."

They're back in the elevator now, food and drinks in hand, going up.

Kuroo pauses. Thinks. Then opens his mouth to speak once more. "Is this about coffee being bitter again?" 

It looks like he's caught Kei off guard. 

The expressions on his face flicker for a moment between the initial annoyance at expecting more of Kuroo's relentless prodding, to something more like confusion. Kei blinks, surprised, as if he hadn't expected Kuroo to remember the cake conversation from only yesterday, much less his personal preferences.

"Actually . . . no," he says. "I just wanted to be able to sleep later. Too much caffeine would prevent that."

"Oh," Kuroo says, and he feels kind of stupid now.

"I haven't had any sleep. Coffee would be bad." Kei's lips quirk just a bit, though, all of a sudden — his first smile of the day, and it kind of imprints itself in Kuroo's memory just because it's something he doesn't see very often. 

It's like Kei was wound up tight like a spring before, tense and strained, but now he visibly relaxes, releases, if only for a moment.

"But, you know," Kei begins. He clears his throat and stares pointedly at the elevator's panel of buttons, avoiding Kuroo's gaze. "If you're really _that_ eager to treat me to coffee, then I'll take a rain check for next time."

It's Kuroo's turn to blink now, because. Is that what he thinks it is? It's highly unlikely, but, what if?

"Yeah, a rain check," Kuroo nearly stammers, and Kei just nods, still looking away. "No problem."

"I take it black, without sugar."

The way Kei says it sounds like the tidbit of information is just another small thing. It also sounds like a test, though, like he wants to see if Kuroo will still remember this several months later, or whenever he actually does cash in that promise for a cup of coffee. 

It certainly wouldn't hurt to remember, Kuroo thinks. 

He recalls how he'd been wondering about the girl in the elevator and what would have happened if the elevator broke down in real life as well.

Now he thinks he was silly for wondering.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It goes something like this: 
> 
> Kuroo approves. Akaashi gives in. And then it's a majority vote, and they're out the door.

xiv.

During the promised briefing session later, Akaashi is very thorough about it, as expected. 

They need to obtain the floor plans to a building that's been suspiciously closed off to the public for a while. It seems that some of the higher-ups suspect the place is the base of operations for some illegal drug trafficking. The premise of it all sounds simple enough. They just need to steal the plans from a certain businessman who resurfaces once every blue moon and will be attending an auction event five miles from where they're staying. It involves a lot of waiting, perfect timing, and good communication — but it shouldn't be hard.

Originally, it wasn't supposed to be their mission, Akaashi says, but the initial team stationed for the job had to be called out for something else. Something that was apparently more taxing of an operation. 

Akaashi mentions an Oikawa, and then later also a Hinata and Kageyama. Kuroo sees Kei stiffen in his seat at that.

Strangely enough, the _contact_ is not mentioned until Kuroo brings it up. He's surprised since he'd expected to hear plans concerning where and when to meet them during the job, but apparently that's not the case.

"Don't worry about that," Akaashi tells him. "He just gave us some of the information we needed. He won't have any further involvement with what's planned."

Kei has his lips parted slightly then, like he wants to say something. He stops himself, though, and Kuroo regrettably doesn't think enough of it to remember to ask again later. Bokuto has already chimed in with another question. 

\------

xv.

Bokuto really is the best, Kuroo thinks, because he can accomplish so many things that Kuroo can't with just a couple of words.

Fifty-six hours before their next stint, he manages to convince Akaashi and Kei to actually get some sleep.

Forty-eight hours before, he once again manages to convince everyone to go out and have a couple of drinks on headquarter's budget.

Or, well. Not _everyone_ , but still. 

It goes something like this: 

Kuroo approves. Akaashi gives in. And then it's a majority vote, and they're out the door. 

Upon being asked which place they'd actually go to, Bokuto supplies an address without the least bit of hesitation, like he'd had this in mind for a while, planned all along ever since they first stepped foot in the area. In fact, he's also planned it _well_ , because the place isn't very far. But then again, Prague is a city known for being well-stocked with cheap booze everywhere. 

They hit up a bar in Old Town Square, within walking distance. True to it's name, the district has an almost rustic feel to it. The bar itself is deceptively cozy, and on a Tuesday evening, the place isn't very packed, which makes it all the better for them.

All excluding one person.

"I don't drink before missions," Kei protests, to which Bokuto laughs and thumps him in the back. It's not a _hard_ thump, per se, but it's enough for Kei's glasses to get knocked around a bit and shift on the bridge of his nose.

"Sure you do," Bokuto laughs again, and proceeds to call out to the bartender for a set of drinks. Kei mutters something that sounds like "good grief," barely audible in the midst of Bokuto's loud enthusiasm. He moves to adjust his glasses, leaning forward on the barstool and trying to scoot away from the physical contact, but it's a failed effort. Bokuto notices his attempt at escape and corners him once more, bringing an arm over Kei's shoulder and pulling him in.

"No, really, I don't," Kei assures him, obviously displeased, and seems to look towards Akaashi with a silent plea to save him. It's also, admittedly, a failed effort.

"Kei, there's forty-eight hours. It won't affect anything," Bokuto almost whines. "Just one won't hurt. Keiiii."

"No," Kei says, jaw stubbornly set, but when the drinks arrive, he tentatively takes one, fingers curling delicately around the glass.

Bokuto grins.

"Actually," Kuroo says, letting the syllables slide loosely on his tongue, because he really does love being unhelpful sometimes. "In Vienna, didn't you steal my drink before you went to solo that mission yourself?"

Kei flushes, hard. Under the dim lighting, Kuroo can't quite appreciate it all that well, but.

"That was one time, Kuroo. _One_ time. God."

Kuroo clicks his tongue.

And waits for it.

"What, _really_?" Bokuto demands rather loudly once he finally processes what that means, and Kei winces, since with them being squeezed together and all chummy and everything, his ear just so happens to be right next to Bokuto's mouth. 

"That's really Kei's personal preference," Akaashi remarks, finally trying to offer some help. It doesn't work, though, because of his refusal to assign any blame, and he's blatantly ignored in the face of Bokuto's indignant objections. It's also already much too late.

"Oh my God," Kei says. He looks at Bokuto, and then his eyes dart towards Kuroo before he stares at his drink once more.

"Oh my God," he repeats. And stares. And then picks up his shotglass and downs the drink in one go, the same way he did the first time Kuroo had met him.

He chokes a little bit, wiping the edge of his mouth with the back of his hand, lips curling at what's probably the smooth burn of the alcohol in his throat. Bokuto stops protesting and thumps him on the back a second time to help him recover.

"That's more like it," Kuroo says, and grins. 

\------

xvi.

Several hours and several drinks later, they're more than a little bit tipsy, trying to find their way back to the hotel and hobbling along the winding cobblestone streets. 

Coming here had been plenty easy, but leaving is a bit harder because they're all kind of sloshed. It's Akaashi who comes up with the idea of flagging down a taxi. Brilliant, really.

Although Bokuto calls shotgun at first, Akaashi's the one who ends up in the front seat by an unanimous decision, since he's apparently the most clear-minded of them all and still retains the capacity to give their cab driver accurate directions.

Akaaahi actually still appears to be functioning at near full capacity, and even though everything seems a bit fuzzy to Kuroo, his thoughts are at least eighty percent coherent when he considers that maybe Akaashi isn't truly drunk but just has trouble hauling three _actual_ drunks back to their lodging without being assisted by some sort of vehicle.

Perhaps it wouldn't be hard just dragging both Kuroo and Bokuto, as he used to do in their earlier days as a group of three. With the addition of Kei, however, it's significantly more difficult; Kei is, as they find out, apparently a sleepy drunk.

"Mind the step," Kuroo tells him as he's climbing into his seat, and he kind of looks a little bit dazed, as though it takes him more than a moment to fully process the warning. He mumbles something Kuroo can't quite catch and kind of gets herded into the backseat after Bokuto.

Kuroo slips in behind him and closes the door, although he's also pretty drunk himself and misses on his first try. It's a tight squeeze, as it always is when three people take the backseat. 

"Seatbelt," Akaashi has to remind them, and their driver glances back through his rearview mirror before stepping his foot on the gas.

One of the cushions has a gash in it, and Kuroo can feel the scratch of its peeling faux leather as he shifts around in his seat trying to give Kei more space in the middle.

Strangely, Kei isn't voicing protest about being squished, like Kuroo had expected he would; it's probably due to the amount of alcohol he's had. He also doesn't scowl this time when Bokuto makes fun of him for not being able to find his seatbelt latch.

Instead, Kei just pauses, like he's having trouble articulating his thoughts. Finally, he slurs, "You can't either," and swats Bokuto's hand away as if they're competing for the same buckle.

There's Bokuto's offended yelp, and Kei's continued struggle, and then Kuroo finds himself reaching over to try and settle the argument by securing both of their seatbelts himself.

Even after hearing the fastening click and feeling the tug of his strap as Kuroo tests its tautness, Kei still appears to be confused and behind on what's happening. "Let me do it," he says, and also tries to slap Kuroo's hand away. 

"Kei, stop," Kuroo tells him gently, trying to pronounce the syllables as clearly as he can. He can't tell if he himself is slurring too when the words are coming from his own mouth.

Kei finally does stop, slumping down in his seat. He squirms a bit, causing a big enough commotion for Bokuto to have to shift his wide frame in the seat over and hunch his broad shoulders forward in order to save space.

There's a pout. 

It bothers Kuroo that he lacks his normal range of vocabulary at the moment. He can't describe it the way he normally would when he's been reduced to kindergarten-level words of single syllables. 

He mulls over that for a second, trying to find the right one.

Odd. Rare. Good. C—

Kei says something then that Kuroo misses by accident. He pauses for Kei to repeat himself.

"I _said_ ," Kei starts. "I feel fuzzy. This is gross."

Bokuto looks at him, taken aback. "Dude," he says, and it comes out a tad slurred as well. "You're _supposed_ to. That's the magic."

"What do you mean?" Kei says, sounding confused again and also annoyed at his own confusion. "Magic isn't real. So it can't be magic. Since magic isn't real."

"It's real, I swear!" Bokuto argues back, and Kuroo laughs at them, because even though he's nearly as sloshed as they are, he still understands what they're saying even when they themselves can't.

"Magic is for losers. And losers suck," Kei continues, without really making it a point to answer Bokuto's objection.

He scrunches his eyebrows.

"Like happily ever afters." 

"Sure, whatever you say," Kuroo tells him, and tries to get Kei to stop with how he's obsessively checking his seatbelt strap. "Whatever you say."

\------

xvii.

Late into the night, when it's late enough to be considered morning, Kei sobers up a little. Kuroo's confused about why they're not all passed out yet. He's kind of woozy and doesn't remember why.

"What time is it?" Kei asks, completely out of the blue.

Kuroo looks at the clock. He thinks maybe the hour hand is at four. Or five. It's definitely, definitely somewhere between three and six, but he can't say for sure.

Kuroo waits for Akaashi to answer, because he's more likely to be correct. Nobody says anything, though, and then he realizes Akaashi's not in the room. He can't remember why again, either.

"Four," he answers in Akaashi's stead. 

Kei looks at him, and he seems kind of clear-headed but also kind of not. "How many hours left? Before the job?" he asks this time.

Kuroo thinks. "Thirty," he says. The math sounds wrong to him, but once again, he can't say for sure. It's not exactly his forte right now. 

Kei looks at him again. It seems like forever before he replies, but Kuroo knows it just feels like that because his sense of time currently can't be trusted, just like his math. 

"Okay," Kei finally says. After a second, he repeats it, like he's doing it for himself.

"Okay," he says again, and looks anything but.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot will pick up next chapter. Yay!


End file.
